


The Light Behind Your Eyes

by LadyFogg



Series: Angel with a Shotgun [15]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer
Genre: Blood and Gore, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Gore, Kissing, Language, One Night Stand, Punching, Sex, Sexual Content, Slash, Smoking, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After sending you and Mercury away, John takes a drug induced trip down memory lane, going all the way back to the day you first met. With the people he loves finally safe, he summons the First and faces his fate. John’s POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light Behind Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Fic Song: https://play.spotify.com/track/3HyDpKAuR3e4l6QB7hSB2l
> 
> Please note a lot of the dialogue during the scenes with the First comes directly from Hellblazer issue #45, as does the resolution. This is my adaptation.

 

John watches Lola leave, the rage and crippling sadness building at an alarming rate. Once she’s out of his line of sight, he unleashes it. With a vicious yell, he sweeps everything off the desk. He kicks chairs, smashes bottles, throws books; anything he can destroy he does. Tears he can’t contain anymore fall freely. 

There were so many times he wanted to give in, to let her stay. But it was too dangerous. If he wasn’t dying, he would have taken them both and disappeared, just the three of them. It was all a pipe dream, a fantasy he could never have. He had given up any thought of a future long ago. But then Lola had to come into his life and muck it all up. She just had to believe in him, to challenge him, to make him want to be better. 

How dare she love him unconditionally? Doesn’t she know he doesn’t deserve it?

John marches to one of the many cabinets and digs around until he finds a bottle of whiskey. Renee hadn’t gotten to this one it seems. John doesn’t even bother to get a glass. Most of them are in pieces on the floor anyways. He uncaps the bottle and takes a large swig. For once, the burning sensation doesn’t help. It makes his already sensitive stomach churn as he collapses onto one of the couches. 

“So this is what my life comes down to,” he says, his unfocused eyes staring at the fireplace. 

“Sending your partner away and your daughter to save their lives?” Gary’s ghost asks, appearing next to John. “How oddly noble of you.”

John snorts with disbelief as he takes another drink. “Of course I see you right after she leaves,” he mumbles. He reaches into his pocket and draws out a cigarette. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re really my subconscious or are actually here.” He lights up and collapses against the couch cushions. 

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Gary asks, mirroring John. “Has the great John Constantine finally gone daft?”

“Probably,” John says, exhaling smoke before drinking from the bottle again. 

“She’s always drove you crazy,” Gary says. “Ever since the first time she pulled you into the shower and you shagged her. Do you remember how good she felt? How desperate and rough?”

John lets out a longing sigh. “Yeah, yeah I remember. She was the first person I was with after Zed died. Well, first person of meaning.”

“Only person of meaning after Zed,” Gary points out. “And yet you let it be the one time. You wanted to do it more, had every chance. But you didn’t. You were together for two weeks after that, but you didn’t even try.”

“More than made up for it since then,” John comments. “Besides, she clearly wasn’t interested, nor was she in her right mind.” 

“She asked you once if you would have asked her to stay,” Gary says. 

“Went to her room that night with every intention of pleading my case,” John admits. “But this world had already started breaking her spirit. So I let her go.”

“Not really, though. Dream stalking was a new low, even for you,” Gary says. 

“I was not stalking, I was checking up on her,” John insists. “And anyways, once she found out, she got that rune so I couldn’t keep doing it. Was nice that she was dreaming about me, though.” 

That had been a pleasant surprise. One John had taken full advantage of. 

“What about the cruise?” Gary asks. “You had no idea about the case before you learned she was going to be there. It was the perfect way to burrow your way back into her life, like a parasite.”

“Alright, alright, enough,” John says, waving him off. “Yes, I pursued her. Was already falling well before she sacrificed herself for me. I don’t need a reminder.”

“Yes you do,” Gary says. “You need to remember why you’re doing this. For her and for your daughter.” 

In the mirror, John watches the image of Lola and Merc walk into frame. He always wondered if there was a logic to what the mirror shows. Was it random, or did it know? Liv saw Jasper. Lola saw the night she left John for the first time. John saw her and Gary on numerous occasions. 

“It’s a good thing you didn’t tell her what you’re going to do,” Gary says. “She’d punch you.”

John chuckles, taking a drag. “Yeah, yeah she would,” he says. “But it’s better this way. If it works, I can watch over them from a distance.”

“And if it doesn’t, you’ll be dead.” 

“Exactly,” John says, putting the bottle down. He hauls himself to his feet and when he looks to his right, Gary is gone. “Either way, they're safe.”

It takes a few hours for John to prepare for what he has to do. When he's ready to go, he ignores the mess he created, stepping over the books and broken glass to pick up his bag from the floor. However, he pauses when he sees a bundled piece of pink cloth underneath it. Heart practically in his throat, he bends down and gingerly takes it in his hands. It’s one of Merc’s hats. John beats the dust and debris off it before pressing it to his face, inhaling that unique smell only babies have. 

Saying goodbye to her had been harder than saying goodbye to Lola. John tucks the hat into his back pocket and grabs his coat from the couch. 

Lola’s car is waiting for him outside. He gets in, throws his bag into the passenger seat and promptly lets out a yell as he almost hits Zed. 

“Bloody fucking hell,” he swears. “Should get a damn bell for you to wear.”

“You’re really going to go through with this?” Zed asks. 

“Since your holy majesty won’t heal me, I don’t have a choice,” John says, starting the car. 

“You never asked me,” Zed says. 

John pauses and looks at her. “Did you tell that to Lola?”

“No, I didn’t,” Zed says. “Not even when she threatened me.”

John breathes a sigh of relief. “Good,” he says, buckling his seat belt. 

“John, you’re playing a dangerous game,” Zed warns.

“You celestial types keep forgetting who you’re dealing with,” John says, putting the car in drive. “I’m John Constantine. I don’t play if I can’t win.” He throws Zed a playful wink and she rolls her eyes. 

Cigarette dangling from his lips, John drives away from the Mill house. He had made the same drive many times before. Different circumstances of course. Back then he knew he had a warm meal, hot kisses and rough sex to look forward to. This time, he was driving into the unknown. 

Lola’s apartment is technically John’s now. After she died, he had cleaned it out but kept paying the lease. The thought was to give it back once he saved her. After, it was there in case she ever needed space, which ended up being impossible with the connection. Eventually he forgot about it until searching for her after Hell. That’s when he learned there had been a fire and the building had been closed. 

Which made it the perfect place to do what he needed to. 

John parks the car where Lola used to park. The rear entrance is chained shut, but a pair of bolt cutters takes care of it. His footsteps echo as he walks up to her apartment. Last door on the left, third floor. 

John pauses outside the door, mentally preparing himself. If he concentrates hard enough, he can swear he can hear her inside, moving around the kitchen, singing to herself as she waits for him. Or cursing him for being late, as he often was. 

When he opens the door, he’s greeted by an empty, feebly lit room. He stands in the doorway, taking in the desolate surroundings. He hates seeing it like this. While untouched by the fire that had taken the lowers floors, what was once a bright, welcoming space is now cold and dirty. 

John extinguishes his cigarette on the floor of the hallway and enters the apartment, closing the door behind him. He walks into the center of the room and drops his bag on the floor. The walls are covered in different protection runes and sigils. Some are disguised in murals, others are not. He turns to the wall on the left, where the Eye of Horace is painted across most of it. Lola is pretty good. Not as great as Zed had been, but still good. 

John wonders if she’ll show Mercury how to paint. Will they paint together? Set up easels outside, giggling and laughing as they flick paint at each other. He wishes he could be there to see it. He pulls a can of spray paint out of his bag. He admires Lola’s handywork for another moment before moving throughout the apartment, spraying over the symbols. There, now he can do what he needs to. 

The summoning shouldn't be too hard. The ritual isn't very difficult to set up. John draws a pentagram in the middle of the room. Once that's done, he places white candles at each point. He tries not to remember the last time the room was lit by candlelight. A bad thunderstorm had taken out the power, and he had been greeted by Lola wearing lacy underthings, surrounded by candles. He had taken her three times that night.

Cigarette in hand, John gets to his feet and admires his handiwork. Now comes the hard part. If he doesn't play this right, then this has all be for nothing. John exhales smoke before speaking. “You down there, second of the three. You know who I am,” he says. “Let’s talk.”

\---

John waits until the smoke clears before he allows himself to relax. He needs to delay a few hours before he goes forward. Extinguishing his cigarette with his shoe, John pulls Mercury’s hat out of his pocket. He still can’t wrap his head around the fact that he has a daughter. Lola gave him everything, including the family he didn’t even know he was allowed to want. This is one outcome he never considered was possible. Their agreement not to have children had been clear, even though he never really did stop thinking about the images the Jinn had planted. If he is honest with himself, it was always there, buried under layers of snark and denial. He wishes he could see how they wound up where they did. 

John bends down to look in his bag and realizes that, technically, he can see how they ended up where they did. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a vial with a root in it. Last time he used it was to fight the hunger demon. It showed him what he needed to see then. It can do it now. 

John puts the baby’s hat in the bag and sits cross-legged on the floor. He hesitates for a second before he uncorks the vial. The root is as disgusting as ever, but he powers through, scrunching his face, while forcing himself to swallow. The drug takes instant effect, the room spinning dangerously. He feels himself get lost in the psychedelic and goes along for the ride. 

 

**THREE YEARS AGO**

The ocean breeze feels amazing. After two days of being locked in the suite, John’s glad Lola dragged him out for dinner. Not because he felt they needed to stop having sex, but because he loves the way she looks in the moonlight as she rests on the railing. 

“I’m glad you decided to stay,” she says, throwing him a large smile. 

John is dressed down for once, the tropical heat being too much to bare in his usual ensemble, despite the sun having gone down. He wears shorts and a light button-up, and the same large smile she has. The kind you can only get from spending time doing dirty things with someone you're attracted to. He leans forward, capturing her lips with his own. He’s glad he decided to stay as well. She was right, he needed a break. He had been going non-stop since he learned about the Rising Darkness. He’s entitled to a few weeks of rest and relaxation. She leans into the kiss, pressing her body along his. 

When they part, John smirks. “Want to find a spot and shag where we can possibly get caught?”

Lola laughs, cheeks flush. “Of course I would,” she says. “But first I want a drink.”

John gives her another quick kiss. “I can do that,” he says. He reluctantly untangles himself from her and walks over to the bar. He has to wait for several other passengers to get their drinks before he has a chance to speak to the bartender. “Two whiskeys, please.”

He turns to lean his back on the counter, admiring Lola from across the room. She looks magnificent standing there, hair and sundress flowing around her. She's doesn't see him watching her. She stares at the ocean, still smiling. 

“So this is where you are.”

With a groan, John turns around to glare at the bartender. Or more accurately, to glare at Manny. The dark-skinned angel looks like he wants to smite John on the spot.

“Look who finally caught on,” John says, taking the drinks in front of him. 

“There is a darkness on the way, and you’re here getting drunk and shacking up with some woman?” Manny asks angrily.

“I’m taking a well deserved holiday,” John tells him. 

Manny looks past John at Lola, a disapproving expression on his face. “I don’t like this,” he says. “You have a mission. You should be fighting evil, not wasting your time here.”

“Lola isn’t a waste,” John says, glaring at the angel. “She makes me feel like a person. Something I haven’t felt in a very long time. Besides, I defeated a water god and stopped the stupid wankers from summoning it again and sacrificing more people. That counts as a job.”

“A job I didn’t give you,” Manny glares. 

“And yet, you can’t do a bloody thing about it. I have free will,” John says. “And I exercise that free will to get drunk and shag the living daylights out of the one bird who can stand being around me for more than a few hours.” He takes a few steps away from the counter. “So flap off. See you on shore.”

He turns his back on Manny and strolls away to where Lola is waiting for him. He can't help the smirk when he notices a scrap of fabric in her hands. “What have you got there?”

Lola grins wickedly and drops the fabric overboard. “My underwear.”

John's heart rate spikes and he hands her a drink. “If you don't come with me right now, I'll take you in front of all these people.” 

Lola takes the drink, downing it in one shot. John copies her and they slam their empty glasses onto a nearby table. He grabs her hand and drags her away as they burst into a fit of giggles.

\---

She’s going to be pissed he’s late. 

John strolls down the hallway toward her apartment, taking a drag as he goes. He feels the familiar rush of magic before he makes it past her wards and to her front door. Her key is right next to the one for the Mill house and he unlocks her home, bracing himself for her eye roll and sass. 

However, the living room and kitchen are dark, say for a soft light above the stove. There’s a plate wrapped with foil waiting for him, but as he pulls the key from the lock and tucks it into his coat, something else catches his eye. Locking the door behind him and smirking around his cigarette, John sees a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom. He takes his coat off, letting it fall to the floor. 

“You ready for Johnny, love?” he calls. 

He hears a moan and excitedly removes his tie as he moves through the apartment. If she’s not waiting in the living room, it could only mean one thing. He stands in the entry to her bedroom, watching her writhe on the bed. Her hand is between her legs as she pleasures herself. 

“Took you long enough,” she groans when she sees him. “You said six.”

“Got hung up,” John says, eyes completely focused on her hand. “Now I’m glad I was late.” 

“You just going to watch?” Lola teases. 

John slowly walks forward, unbuttoning his shirt. “I’d love to,” he says. “But it’s been a long week and I need to feel you for myself.” 

She smirks, hand stopping its movement as she props herself up on her elbows. “Then get over here and fuck me already. I’ve waited long enough for you.”

John drops his pants and practically pounces onto the bed. Lola giggles as he crawls towards her. She takes the cigarette from him, extinguishing it on the nightstand. He kisses her hungrily, pressing her into the mattress. This is what he needs. Her ready for him, waiting to greet him after a rough job. 

A week later he learns about Manny’s betrayal. 

John’s angry. More than angry; he’s furious. This entire time he was being played and he didn’t even realize it. Despite his better judgement, he lets himself into Lola’s apartment. She's not expecting him, so he's not surprised to find her asleep. She’s in bed, his pillow cuddled to her chest, but she wakes up when he stumbles in. 

“John?” she asks groggily. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer. She watches as he shrugs out of his clothes and climbs onto the bed. One look at his expression tells her everything she needs to know. She doesn’t ask him anymore questions. Not even when he pushes her onto her back before shoving her nightgown up. She removes it for him, completely bare underneath and too warm for his cold hands. He’s rough with her. Rougher than he ever has been, rougher than even he is comfortable with. But she lets him, moves with him urgently, bites and scratches him in return. 

And when it’s over and he breaks down crying, she holds him close. She strokes his hair and most importantly, she doesn’t force him to talk.

The next morning, he’s sure she’s going to kick him out. He deserves it after the way he treated her. But when he wakes up, it’s because she’s peppering kisses across his face. He doesn’t know what to say. He wants to apologize; he should apologize. She doesn’t give him the chance. Instead she places a plate of pancakes on the end table. 

“I’m jumping in the shower,” she says, running her hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “Eat and then you’re welcome to join me.” She slinks off the bed and drops her robe, sauntering to the bathroom with her hips swaying. “It’s your choice.”

That’s it. That’s all. Just like that, he’s off the hook. He watches her walk with only one thought in his head:  _ Bloody hell, I’m in love.  _

\---

Lola is basically dead. She sacrificed herself for him and now he is alone again.

John spends his nights in the local bar. He uses any guy or girl who shows interest in him, trying to fill the hole Lola left. It’s how he finds himself in a cheap motel, shagging a particularly vocal college student. John's hips snap forward as he takes the young man roughly, fingers digging into his skin.

The man groans, moving along with John's thrusts. But it's not enough. The Dark Arts master can feel himself losing interest. It feels good, but it's not what he wants. The young man’s hair isn't the right shade, his skin tone doesn't match. His moans didn’t make John’s toes curl and his cock throb. John shuts his eyes, picturing the person he really wants. 

If Lola were there she'd have wrestled him for control. She would be practically propelling herself backwards until she knocked him onto his ass. Then she would have taken what she wanted, bouncing on his lap until they both came.

John manages to get the young man off before his own cock twitches feebly, filling the condom.

Thoroughly satisfied, the man collapses onto the bed while John disposes of the condom and cleans himself off. They don't speak. The next thing John knows, his conquest is passed out.

John lights up and lays in bed, eyes focused on the ceiling. Next to him, his bedmate lets out a snore and rolls away. John shoots the man a look, making sure he is still sleeping. He’s relieved that he is. Last thing he wants to deal with is having to talk. 

Don’t get him wrong, the young lad is hot and eager to please. It had taken one drink and a smirk to get his attention. Maybe that's the problem. He is too eager. Obviously too new to this whole one-night stand business. It isn’t his fault John didn’t enjoy himself. 

What is he doing? This isn’t working. None of them work. He needs to leave, before the lad wakes up. 

Cigarette between his lips, John quietly slips out of bed. He pulls on his clothes, pausing every now and then to make sure he doesn’t wake whatever-his-name-is. John doesn’t even think he asked. 

“Another one-night stand?” says a voice behind him. “Wow, you must really love me.”

Startled, John turns to see Lola leaning against the wall, shaking her head at him. Oh no, not this again. First the ghost of Gary Lester haunted him after Zed died. Now Lola's ghost comes to him. Okay, not so much a ghost as a manifestation of his darkest thoughts and feelings.

“You’re not her,” he hisses, trying to be as quiet as possible. “Sod off.”

“Maybe I'm not,” Lola says. “But I’m still here. And where is the real Lola? Locked up at the Mill house. Waiting to die when you inevitably fail to save her. Just like everyone else. Meanwhile, here you are, robbing the cradle with this twink who is obviously suffering from daddy issues. Did it feel good, John? Did it feel like it feels with the real me?”

“At least I felt something,” John growls.

Ghost Lola smirks. “Liar.”

Jaw clenched, John yanks his coat on and slips out of the room. 

\---

Heaven, she had been in Heaven, with a daughter that was meant to be his. And he pulled her away from all that. For what?

John downs his glass. Next to him, Lola looks at the fire, eyes vacant. Whatever connection they have is dulled from the alcohol, making it difficult for him to get a sense of her feelings. John opens his mouth to ask her a question, but she just slams her glass down. 

“Going to bed,” she says gruffly. She gets to her feet, but John stops her by taking her hand. She looks down at him, mouth drawn in a straight line. 

“You’re important to me. I need you. I know what you had to give up and I promise to repay you one day,” he says. 

Her expression softens and she reaches out to stroke his cheek. “You’re a giant pain in my ass, John Constantine.”

_ But I still love you. _

The words startle John when they enter his mind. Mainly because it’s her voice he hears, not his own. But he was looking right at her. She didn’t say them. Somehow with the connection, he was able to hear her thoughts. He’s so stunned he sits there with what is probably a strange look on his face. 

Lola sighs, kisses him on the forehead and walks away. 

John thinks on what he heard. He wonders if he’ll be able to hear more if the connection is stronger. He should investigate. 

\---

Through his post-orgasm induced nap, John violently jerks awake. His eyes snap open and he immediately knows something is wrong. His pants are stuck to him in the most disgusting way. He pushes them down and off, trying to get out of bed at the same time. He ends up in a heap on the floor.

“Bollocks!”

She played him. Got him drunk and jerked him off so he would pass out. He should have realized it was a trick. She is hardly ever that forgiving after an argument and she almost always demands he take care of her needs as well. He feels her getting further away and he struggles into a clean pair of pants. He can't let her go this time. He has to chase after her and tell her how he feels. 

Chas is sitting in the living room and looks up as John comes running to the railing.

“Why did you let her go?” the blond man snaps. He pulls on his trench coat impatiently, cursing as he gets tangled in the sleeves. 

Chas glares. “She has a right to choose,” he says. “I wasn’t about to keep her here against her will.”

“Get the keys,” John orders. “We're going after her!”

“John, let her go,” Chas insists. “She needs space.”

“Chas, I care about her! I'm not about to let her get away. Not again, not after she sacrificed herself for me.”

“Did you tell her any of this?” Chas inquires, grabbing the cab’s keys off the coffee table.

“It's complicated. We...I don't have time to explain myself to you!” John says urgently. “We have to catch up to her.”

The connection is putting every nerve on edge. Lola is blocking him out, so all those emotions are bouncing off her mental wards, coming back at him in the worst way. He can’t let her go. She loves him and though he hasn’t said the words out loud, he loves her too. He already lost her once, he will not lose her a second time.

**TWO YEARS AGO**

They make love. And yes, he knows the difference between fucking and lovemaking. 

John’s not quite sure how it happens. One moment she’s pinned beneath him, his hand tracing the dip of her spine as he fucks deeply into her. The next second, it’s not enough. 

When she turns onto her back, he realizes he needs to see her face, to watch how her eyes grow hooded when he slides into her once more. How she bites her lip to stifle a moan. He has every intention of picking up the pace. Lola likes it rough and John is more than happy to give it to her. But he keeps going slow, keeps eye contact. 

Maybe it helps remind him this is reality. Maybe it’s the connection overwhelming him. Maybe he loves her and realize he’s never really taken the time to admire while he’s inside of her. 

Whatever the case, John makes love to Lola until her whispered words, “I’m close.”

“Me too,” he groans. It's true. He's about ready to burst and he feels the magic and energy building at an alarming rate between them.

She comes undone beneath him, writhing and moaning wantonly. He made that happen. He made love to her and let himself be vulnerable, and she went along for the ride. 

He kisses her, wishing he could say the words she asked him not to. 

\---

“I win, again,” Lola says, sitting on his sternum and crossing her arms. She wears a triumphant smirk. John is panting heavily, too exhausted and drained to glare at her. Even though he really wants to. “You suck at this fighting thing.”

“Love, if I do my job right, I don’t have to fight anyone,” he wheezes. Years of smoking have damaged his lungs and he finds it difficult to catch his breath. 

“So, like, you always have to fight then?” she teases. 

John lacks a proper retort, so he settles for flipping her the bird. “Piss off,” he says. 

Lola laughs and stretches her body out on top of his. “Oh, don’t be like that, baby,” she coos, placing several open mouth kisses to his bare chest. “At least you can look pretty in the background while I kick ass.”

John wraps his arms around her and rolls them so she’s on her back, pinned to the floor by his sweaty frame. “You look pretty squirming underneath me,” he purrs before latching his mouth onto her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a large, purplish bruise. 

Lola wiggles underneath him with a low groan. “It’s a good thing we decided not to have kids,” she says, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

“Why do you say that, pet?”

“Because then we wouldn’t be able to just drop everything and fuck,” she says, dragging her hand through his hair. “Kids tend to be nature’s birth control.” 

John chuckles, tongue making a wet path up her neck and to her ear. She shudders under his ministrations, her pelvis pressing up into his as she tries to cause friction between her legs. Kids or no kids, John is just glad they are finally okay with each other. Sure there are still those three major words they haven’t said, but the connection helps. Because even though she hasn’t said she loves him outloud, he can feel it. Even now, as he meets her gaze, he can feel her love wash over him. 

He goes in for another kiss and she takes advantage of his lust-addled brain. She rolls him so he’s pinned beneath her before she springs to her feet. “If you want me, you have to win the next match,” she teases. 

John groans and fixes her with a smoldering look. Oh she is so going to get it. Unfortunately, he loses the next match. And the one after that. 

 

**ONE YEAR AGO**

The heat is gross and ridiculous, but John is too busy being on cloud nine to notice. Sure, things are pretty damn horrible. Sure, there is a fiery hellscape around them, with demons and monsters screaming in the distance. They haven't met too many unspeakable horrors yet, though it was the first day. But for once in his life, John isn’t alone and he will take comfort in that fact. Lola walks next to him, shotgun slung on her back and jacket tied around her waist. 

They pause to take a moment. John rests against a nearby rock, smoking. Lola stands a few inches in front of him, her eyes scanning the area. When she senses him looking at her however, she meets his gaze with a raised eyebrow. 

“Can I help you?” she inquires. 

John smirks proudly around his cigarette. “We said the words and the world didn’t end,” is his muffled response.

Lola snorts with disbelief. “Um, babe,” she says. “Look around. We're literally in Hell right now.”

John shrugs, flicking his cigarette to the side. He hooks his finger through Lola’s belt loop and pulls her flush against him. “Yeah, but that has nothing to do with us admitting our feelings.”

Lola chuckles, arms snaking around his neck, her nose brushing his. He tries to kiss her, but she teasingly avoids his lips. “You act like I could just let you jump into a hellmouth after you told me you love me,” she says.

“You know, it’s hard to do these amazing heroic deeds when you keep stopping them,” John teases. “At some point you're going to have to let me clean up my own mess.”

“Yeah, well, when you do that it usually means sacrificing yourself,” Lola says. “And I'm not done with you.”

John raises his eyebrow, hands slipping under her shirt. “Oh really?” he asks. “What are your plans with me?”

Lola smiles and completes the kiss, her teeth nibbling his bottom lip before soothing it with her tongue. He melts into the rock behind him, pulling Lola close. They stay that way for a while, tasting each other as hands explore clothed bodies.

Her mouth trails to his neck and John digs his fingers into her hips with anticipation. “My plans are to make you happy,” she mumbles into his skin. “Even if it kills me.”

John's heart flutters, but his stomach drops. Carefully, he extracts her face from his neck so he can look her in the eye. “Promise me, you won't let that happen,” he urges. “I don't want you sacrificing yourself again. Not on my account.”

“That's how love works, genius,” she says. “You put your partner’s needs before yours. You do what you have to in order to make sure they're safe and happy. Even if it kills you, metaphorically of course.”

It’s all bollocks. John knows she does not mean metaphorically. Not in their line of work. He gives her a wry smile. “Bloody hell, I don't deserve you.”

Lola looks smug at his admission. “I am pretty fucking awesome.”

John tightens his hold on her and goes in for another kiss, but a demonic screech sounds close by. They separate and share a worried glance. “We should probably pay attention to our surroundings,” he suggests.

Lola shakes her arms out before she tries to do her ice spell. It fails. “Damn it!” she snaps. “Every time! I swear, I’m never gonna get that one right.”

John steps in front of her, both hands frosting over as the demons round the corner. “I got this one, love,” he says. “You just let Johnny handle it.”

“Normally, I'd be offended, but I like watching you take charge,” she grins. “Get ‘em, baby.”

John throws her wink and marches towards their attackers. “You gents ready to dance?”

 

**NINE MONTHS AGO**

“This way!” John urges as he and Lola take a sharp corner, hellhounds right on their heels. “Behind that boulder!” 

Lola dives where he indicates and he follows immediately after, practically landing on top of her. He shields her body with his as the hellhounds stumble into the trap he had laid. There is a bright flash of lightening and horrible screeching as the hounds fry to death. Then, silence and the smell of burnt dog hair. 

“Ugh, gross,” Lola says, wrinkling her nose. John gets to his feet with a wince, reaching out to help her up. The hounds are a charred, bloody mess. He was hoping some of the meat would have been spared. It had been days since they had any. But, looking at the mass of dead hellhounds makes his appetite disappear. Lola has the same problem. She makes a face and turns in the opposite direction.

“Let’s get back to camp,” she says. “I can’t stand this smell.”

John follows her on a short walk to where their items are already laid out. They probably could afford to rest there one more day before they had to keep moving. Lola kneels down to dig through his bag. “How long have be been at this now?” she asks. 

“Five months, give or take,” John answers. He yanks his dirty shirt off and throws it on the ground before grabbing his chalice. It fills with cold water and he takes a long drink before dumping the rest over his head. 

“God damn, that’s a long time,” Lola says, getting to her feet. She has a fresh shirt in her hands, which she drops on their makeshift bed.  

John finds himself watching her chest rise and fall rapidly. 

“We safe here or should we move on?” Lola asks, taking her shotgun off and placing it carefully on the ground by her feet. John nods, eyes still focused on her sweat soaked tank top. A wave of lust washes over him. She senses it and shoots him a smirk. “You alright over there?”

John drops the chalice on the ground. “I want to shag you,” he says bluntly, undoing the button on his pants. 

“What, now?” she asks with a chuckle. 

“Here, now, against that rock.” John points to the boulder that blocks their camp from the rest of the underworld. 

“We are not fucking against the rock again,” she tells him. “I got scratches last time.” 

John grabs her hand and spins her around so she’s forced to brace herself on the large stone in question. “I’ll just take you from behind then,” he purrs. 

She laughs and turns back to face him. “Give me a second,” she says. “We just ran for like, an hour. My legs are like jelly.” She gives his cheek a soft slap as she walks past. “Man, you’re hardly ever this insistent after a fight.” She yanks her tank top off and tosses it over her shoulder at him. He catches it easily, grinning as he carelessly chucks it aside.

“It’s been a few days,” John reminds her, watching her hips sway as she walks. “Also, I can’t help it if the sight of you panting and out of breath conjures up all sorts of naughty images.” 

“Everything I do conjures naughty images for you,” Lola says with an eye roll, unzipping her shorts. 

John grins. “You’re not wrong,” he agrees. “When you step out of those shorts, bend over a little and give us a show, yeah?”

“No,” Lola says, pushing the shorts down her hips and kicking them off. “How come I always have to give you a show? How about you give me a show?”

“Oh, you want Johnny to dance for you?” he asks, hands on his hips. 

Lola sits down expectantly on the mattress. “Oh yeah, dance for me, baby.” 

John laughs, hands reaching down to finish undoing the button of his pants. With a smirk, he saunters over to where she sits, hips swaying tantalizingly as he wiggles out of his pants. She’s trying not to laugh, he can tell by the way she hides her mouth with her hand. However, the second she sees how hard he is, the giggles are gone and she eyes him hungrily, spreading her legs so he can settle between them. 

They fall backwards, tangled together. She wraps her legs around his waist, taking the opportunity to rub her slit along his cock. John groans. He sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them with his saliva before worming his hand between their bodies. He revels in the small gasp she makes when he strokes her opening. She grabs him by the hair and brings him into a bruising kiss, sucking his tongue into her mouth. 

John lets her taste him, eagerly pumping his two fingers into her without any warning. It makes her hips instantly buck against his hand. Once she’s good and prepped for him, he tugs on his cock for a few seconds, moaning as her wetness from his hand makes him slick. 

“How do you want it?” he grunts to her, teasing her hole with the head of his cock. 

“You know exactly how.”

With a whimper, John pushes into her. He impatiently wipes his hand on the mattress on his way to grab hers. Fingers twined together, he presses her hand to their bed as he starts a deep, but slow rhythm with his hips. She clings to him tightly, her free arm looping around his shoulders so she can keep him close. Every part of their bodies are touching in some way. John’s mouth refuses to leave Lola’s. Instead he swallows every whimper and moan while kissing and nibbling at her lips. 

The air around them cackles, the magic and energy from their coupling building faster than it normally does. It seems like they move that way for hours, until finally he feels her muscles contracting around him. She arches into him when she finishes, his name tumbling from her mouth in a beautiful chant. He empties himself into her spasming body, hand still squeezing her’s tightly. 

When he comes back to himself, his face is buried in her tits and her hands are stroking his hair. He nuzzles the flesh in front of him, peppering kisses up one of the soft mounds so he can take the nipple between his lips. 

John’s hand travels in between her tits, relishing the shiver that passes through her. He carefully slides out of her and onto his spot on the bed. His hand remains curious, roaming her chest for some time before it travels lower, eventually coming to rest on her stomach. She turns onto her side, scooting backwards until he’s spooning her close. Her hand comes to rest over his and she weaves her fingers with his once more. 

John smiles and holds her close while she drifts off to sleep. He doesn’t know why this time felt different than the others, but he’s too tired to question it. 

 

**SEVEN DAYS AGO**

John stares at Mercury through the glass window, peering in as they examine his daughter. She looks a little small, but other than that her skin is a healthy pink and she’s wiggling around in her crib. They had just given her a bath and are busy finding clothes for her to wear. A flood of emotions wash over him and John lets his forehead hit the window with a soft thud. 

He has a daughter. 

“Overwhelmed?” Zed asks, leaning on the wall next to him. 

John snorts. “Doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he mutters. He steps back from the window and runs a hand over his tired face. 

He can feel Zed studying him and he braces himself for the inevitable. She’s an angel; she’s going to be able to sense the cancer inside him. When he chances a look, he sees the anguish on her face. “You’re sick,” she says with realization. 

John nods, eyes returning their focus to Mercury. “Yeah, I am,” he confirms. “Any day now, this cancer will take me. Leaving Lola all alone to raise her.”

“She won’t be alone,” Chas says, coming to stand on John’s other side. 

John pulls away from the window, turning to face his friend. It’s then that he realizes Ritchie and Anne Marie are with them as well. Anne Marie gives him a pat on the back as she moves to the window to peek in on the baby. Ritchie does the same. 

“Look at her,” Anne Marie smiles. “I tell you, John, never thought I’d see the day you became a father.” 

“You and me both, Annie,” John says, hands coming to rest on the windowsill. The five of them fall silent for a moment, each processing the situation in their own way. 

“John, you need to tell her,” Ritchie eventually says. “Lola needs to know you have cancer. This isn’t fair to her.”

John doesn’t respond, too lost in his own head. Doctors and nurses hurry all around them and he knows in order to say what he wants to, they are going to need some temporary privacy. He glances at Zed, who is already studying him. “Do you mind?”

She smiles and raises her hand. All around the group, time stops. 

“Alright, here’s what I’m thinking,” John says, turning to face them all. “I don’t have much time left, and we know the First is coming for me. Lola and the baby need to be as far away as possible.” 

“I haven’t known her long, but I doubt she’ll leave willingly,” Anne Marie comments. 

“She won’t,” John says. “But let me worry about that. There are some things I need you lot to help me take care of.”

“Anything,” Chas says. The others nod in solemn agreement. 

“Ritchie, I need you to get to work on a cloaking spell,” John says. “Lola is mostly protected by her runes, but Mercury is not. We need to make it impossible for evil to find them, especially the First. Think you can take care of that?” 

Ritchie nods. “I’ll do my best,” he says. 

“Great,” John says. “There are also some legal things I’ll need your help on. But we can talk about that later. Right now, the cloaking is the priority.” 

“Alright, well, I’ll go take care of that now, then,” Ritchie says. “The longer I wait, the more chance there is of something find them.” He gives John a civil nod and turns to leave. However, as he takes a step away, he pauses, looking at Mercury through the window. “She’s beautiful, John.” 

John swallows past the lump in his throat and nods. “Just like her mum.”

As Ritchie walks away, Anne Marie fixes him with a stern look. “John Constantine, what is going on in your head?” she asks.

“There is no ulterior motive,” John assures her. “My priority is to make sure they’re safe.”

“John, I know you,” she says, arms crossed. “You always have an angle. There’s always a hook for you.” 

“Not this time. Annie, we both know I’m not father material,” John says. “Right now, the best thing to do is think about what is safest for them and if that plan doesn’t include me, then I’ll do what I have to do.” 

Anne Marie’s expression softens and she places her hands on his shoulders. “You are doing the right thing,” she assures him. “I know it’s hard. But most selfless acts are. I’m proud of you.” She places a kiss on his forehead. 

“I need you to go through all your occult knowledge,” John says. “Put together a list of any baby snatchers and how to kill them. We need to create charms, wards, the works.” 

“You think something will come after the baby?” Anne Marie asks. “Besides the First?”

“We know of many demons and creatures who make it a habit of kidnapping children. That, mixed with her being my daughter, makes her a target.” 

Anne Marie nods with understanding. “I’ll go to Jasper’s and get to work,” she says. 

“Thanks, Annie.” 

John watches her leave before turning to face Chas. 

“I don’t like that look,” the large man says. 

John sighs, letting his true exhaustion show on his face. He’s so ready to pass out, but there is too much work to be done. “Your job is the most important,” he says. He looks at Mercury, unable to meet Chas’s eye. “I need you to be her father.” 

“John, I can’t--”

“I’m not long for this world, mate,” John interrupts, shooting him a pleading look. “You’re the only person I trust them with. I need you to take them away from here and keep them safe. Do the things I can’t do. Look out for her and Lola. Can you do that for me?”

Chas takes his hat off, running a hand through his hair in the process. “You sure there’s no way to save you?”

“There may be one,” John says. “But it’s a longshot. If I fail, I want to know she’s safe.”

Chas doesn’t want to do it. John can see it in his eyes. But he can no more deny John his last wish than John could deny helping him when Geraldine’s soul was taken. “When are you going to tell her?” he asks. 

“After she gets out of here,” John says. “She’s been through too much today already.” He catches Zed’s eye and nods, letting her know she can drop the time stop spell. She’s been silently watching this entire time, bright eyes scrutinizing John intensely. 

The world returns to normal and a woman wheels Mercury out of the nursery. 

“She is perfectly healthy,” she beams. “A little small, but so far her blood results are normal and she’s breathing just fine. She’s ready to be taken to Mom.” She stops the crib in front of John, who is too overwhelmed to speak. Chas thanks the nurse on his behalf and she steps away to give them privacy. 

“Hold her, John,” Zed tells him. 

John wants to. That primal, paternal instinct of his wants nothing more than to scoop her in his arms and hold her close. But if he does, he knows he’ll fall in love. It’s already happening, and he can’t afford it to. Because once he does, it’s going to make his decision that much harder. 

“I...uh, have to go get a few things,” he says, taking a step away from the crib. “Lola is going to need a car seat and stuff...I should go get that.”

Chas looks like he wants to punch him, but he doesn’t argue. He puts his hat back on and pushes Mercury in the opposite direction. “Come on, little one. Uncle Chas will take you to your mom.”

John watches them go before looking at Zed, his expression hardening. “Tell me what’s special about her,” he demands. “And you can save all the cryptic talk. I know you know what it is.” 

Zed sighs, pushing herself off the wall. “Do you remember that last vision I had? The one that landed me in the hospital?”

John nods warily. 

“Well, it was about a little girl,” she says. “She was standing in the Mill house, watching me with these piercing eyes. The same ones you're staring at me with. She had long, dirty-blonde hair, bad posture and her father’s curled lip.”

“I have excellent posture,” John argues. “So you knew? Back then, you saw Mercury? Why?”

“I didn’t know she was your daughter until after I ascended,” Zed explains. “Who I saw was the person who would inherit my visions.” 

John’s heart sinks. “Are they going to do to her what they did to you?” he asks, fear washing over him at an alarming rate. He can’t take any more tragedy in his life. 

Zed shakes her head and gives him a reassuring smile. “No, John, they won’t,” she says. “She’ll be able to handle them and be better at controlling them. John, she’s going to do amazing things. Things we didn’t even know were possible.”

John is unsure how to process this information. He runs both hands through his hair, pacing in a circle for a few seconds before forcing himself to take a deep breath. “Well, none of that matters if I can’t keep her and Lola safe,” he says. “Even if that means keeping them far from me.”

“She chose you, John,” Zed says. 

“Doesn’t mean it was the right choice.” 

 

**FIVE YEARS AGO**

The damn Succubus gave him the slip. John stands outside the bar, looking around. Not a soul is in sight. Bollocks. He must be losing his touch. He draws his cigarettes out of his pocket, sliding the end of one into his mouth. As he goes to light up, however something across the street catches his eye. 

While there had been no one a second ago, a young girl stands staring at him. John stares back curiously, taking a drag of his cigarette. She’s much too young to be out alone so late. Where are her parents? She turns her back on him and starts to walk away. 

Worried, John jogs across the street to follow her. She pauses to look at him before disappearing down an alleyway. 

Just as John turns the same corner, a woman comes flying by him, hitting the wall to his right. She slides to the ground with a groan, clearly winded. A few feet away is the Succubus he had been hunting. The young girl is nowhere to be seen, but John forgets about her when the demon laughs. 

“As much as I hate to separate two lovely birds from ripping each other to shreds, I think you could use a little help.”

The young woman looks up at him, glaring with defiance. “Back off!” she snaps. “This fight’s mine!”

Without waiting for a response, she springs to her feet and dive tackles the Succubus. John watches her fight the thing, a smirk finding its way on his face and the familiar stirrings of attraction settling in his loins. 

_ Hello there, beautiful. And who might you be? _

 

**PRESENT DAY**

John comes back to himself, dizzy and laying on the floor. In one hand is the vial with the antidote. In his other is Merc’s hat. Head spinning, John rolls onto his side, trying to make sense of the trip he just took. He drops the empty vial and holds Merc’s hat to his chest. 

How does he not remember that vision? The girl had looked somewhat familiar. It couldn’t have been Mercury, could it? 

When Zed told him “She chose you”, he thought she meant Lola. But now he realizes she meant Mercury. He was chosen to help bring her into this world and he wishes he knew why. His head's still spinning from the drug and nothing he’s thinking is making much sense. He doesn’t even know if it falls in the realm of possibility. Was she actually there or was it just the drug playing tricks on him? His memories with Lola before her death are all a mess and there's no way to know for sure.

Zed’s words from the hospital ring in his ears: _ “John, she’s going to do amazing things, things we didn’t even know were possible.” _

Is that how he and Lola wound up where they did? They had to bring Mercury into the world? John felt it had to be more than that. As special as she is, if she only needed to born the fates would have made him knock Lola up that first time. For some reason, they needed to grow to love each other.

Sitting up slowly, John tucks Merc’s hat into his bag and takes in his surroundings as the last of the drug wears off. It’s pitch black outside, meaning he’s been out of it for hours. Plenty of time has passed. He can't put this off any longer. Whatever the reason Merc chose him, it doesn't matter. He did his part and helped conceive her. Now he needs to make sure she is safe. 

John reaches into his pocket and draws out his switchblade. The last time it was used was to cut his daughter’s umbilical cord. The blade is sharp when he touches it. John rolls up his sleeves past his elbows and takes a deep breath. The first cut doesn’t register right away. He sees the blood flowing. But the pain doesn’t catch up until he slits his second wrist. Then the magnitude of what he’s doing hits him and he fights to remain standing. 

He can’t. His body is too weak from the cancer and drug. His blood starts to spill on the floor and he watches it until queasiness in his stomach forces him to shut his eyes. Even still, he knows when the First arrives. He can feel the air shift, hear the rustling of his robes when he enters the circle. 

“Suicide, Constantine?” the First asks, sounding amused. “Not seeing it through to the bitter end?”

“And wait for the cancer to take me?” John growls, opening his eyes. “Leave me weak and vulnerable? I’ll pass.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” the First says, waving his hand. “You’re mine for all eternity. Twice you’ve robbed me. It won’t happen a third time. I bring your damnation.” 

John’s body curls forward and he begins to shake. “That’s very nice and all, you son of a bitch,” he snarls. “But shouldn’t you wait until I’m actually dead?” 

“Normally, yes,” the First says. “However, given the circumstances. I decided I’d rather watch the life drain from your eyes.” 

John groans with pain, hands clenched into fists. He’s light-headed and can feel his body growing cold already. “You attacked my family. If you thought I'd let harm come to them, you're as daft as you are ugly.”

“I will admit, I was curious about a child conceived in my kingdom,” the First says. “And Fey was eager for power. It was so easy, it was almost boring.” 

“He failed,” John sneers. “I got to them before he could sacrifice Lola. They're safe.” It hits John suddenly. Maybe that's why he and Lola needed to grow to love each other. So they could protect her together. It's a new angle he hadn't considered before.

“For now,” the First says. “I have to say, I’m surprised at you. You should have known I’d come for you.”

John lets out a small chuckle. “Actually, I was counting on it. Getting a bit dark in here, innit?”

The First’s eyes narrow and he looks down at his feet. It’s then that he recognizes the ritual he’s standing on. He whirls around to fix John with a glare. “What have you done?!”

The remaining light in the room is diminished as the Second of the Fallen materializes from the shadows. It has no features, only tendrils of dark energy and blackness. 

“You!” the First bellows. “Trespasser!” 

“Trespass indeed,” the Second snarls. “Right is the accusation, wrong is the accused. It is you who trespasses, ancient one.”

“How dare you?” the First demands. “You have no business here!”

“The contract on his life is mine!” the Second hisses. “What are  _ you _ doing here?”

“Contract?! He is mine by right of insult!” The First marches to John, bending down to haul him to his feet. John fights the urge to be sick, giving the being his best smirk. “Constantine, what have you done? Did you make a deal with the Second?”

“Of course not, mate,” John grins. 

“What’s this?” comes a terrible screech. The First’s head snaps to his left as the Third of the Fallen appears. It has no true form, but is merely a beast of many faces. It switches between these damned souls, each face twisted into a terrible scream of agony and horror. John tries not to stare, lest he give into his nausea. “I come for my prize and find interlopers? Brothers, you have no place here. This mortal is mine!”

When the First’s eyes return to meet John’s, the dying man fixes him with a crazed smile. “I made two deals,” he whispers.

With a ferocious yell, the First throws John backwards. He hits the floor hard, yelling in agony. Blood is everywhere and the pain has spread up both arms. He curls into a tight ball, gritting his teeth.

“No, brothers! Return below at once,” the First orders. 

“Why should I return?” the Third growls. “What hold do you and the Second have over me? Constantine’s soul is mine by right!”

“Sold you his soul, has he?” the Second asks. “Not so, brother. His soul is contracted to me. I will be taking him tonight.”

“You are both wrong!” the First snaps. “He is mine by right!”

“By what right?” the Third demands to know. 

“Yes, pray tell, brother,” the Second says. “By what right is that? This right of insult you claim? What has he done?”

The First’s mouth draws into a straight line and he glares at the other two. “That is not something you need to concern yourself with,” he says, actually sounding somewhat embarrassed. 

They are too busy arguing back and forth to notice John pick up the switchblade once more. Biting his lip, the Dark Arts master makes another cut on his wrist, causing the blood to gush faster. He screams in pain, rolling onto his back. The warmth of the blood is a stark contrast to his cold skin. The three beings round on him, his approaching death finally catching their attention. 

“Listen here, you bloody wankers,” he pants. “Time is running short. Oh, and he’s too embarrassed to tell you how I got the best of him.”

“Constantine, I’m warning you…” the First shouts. 

John ignores him, hand coming up to close around the two cuts on his wrist to try to slow down the blood flow. “See, fellas, it was like this, your brother and I were at the house of a dear friend, and when he wasn’t looking, I spiked his drink. You should have seen it. He passed right out and my friend’s soul got to ascend to the Heavens.” The Second and Third start to laugh and the First looks like he’s ready to explode with anger. “And then, me and my bird found ourselves in your domain, and due to the ol’ switcheroo, he couldn’t collect either of our souls and had to send us back here.”

“None of that matters now!” the First bellows over the laughter of his brothers. “All that means is that his soul is mine a thousand times more than it is your shit-stained contracts!” 

John turns his gaze on the Second and Third so he can see their laughter stop once he reveals his plan. “It really is nothing to laugh about, pissants,” he snarls. “Because I’ve done the same to you.”

“What is this nonsense?” the Third asks, laughter dying almost immediately. 

“With us you try to play the fool, Constantine?” the Second chimes in. 

“I don’t play the fool with you, pal,” John tells it. “I make the fool of you. You greedy bastards. You didn’t even stop to think did you? You were so bloody keen to get me in the bag. The great John Constantine. You didn’t even think of the cost of such a prize. I am quite the catch afterall. I sold my soul to the both of you, you pricks.” 

“Idiots!” the First screams. “Thrice damned morons! Tricked, like beginners! All I have to do is take his soul and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me!”

“Which brings me to the next item on the agenda,” John gasps, trying not to cough even though he can feel his cancerous lungs filling with liquid. “As your contracts so neatly outline, one of you has a human soul due to him. Meaning it’s your duty to collect it,  _ no matter what.  _ And, mates, in about five minutes or less, if I take my hand off this vein, my life will be over. So you have got to ask yourselves, who gets me?”

The roars of anger make the building shake, but John is not deterred. “Careful now,” he says as they begin to argue again. “If you act on this, you’ll tear Hell apart and Heaven gets me. And how would that look?”  __

“Constantine, you shit!” the First moves to tower over him. “You are mine! And that way you will stay! I will not be robbed!”

John looks him dead in the eye and without even flinching, removes his hand from the vein. Fresh, hot, red blood spews in every direction and the last of John’s energy goes with it. John feels himself hit the floor for the final time. Their screams and arguing go unheard. Laying in a pool of blood, he waits for death. Whatever their decision, he’s not long for this world. He knew that’s how this would end. Lola could only save him so many times. 

He closes his eyes, picturing Lola’s face. He thinks about her touch, her laugh, her smile, her strength that somehow rubbed off on him. She and Merc will finally be safe for good. 

Mercury. 

Lord knows why her spirit chose him to be her father. Regardless, he is content in the knowledge that he managed to bring one good thing in the world. Lola always thought there was good in him. He guesses she was right in a way. He pictures Mercury’s small face looking up at him when he said goodbye. How he gave her a soft kiss and said his last words to her. 

_ “You were a surprise, but the best kind. I’m sure you’ll hear many stories about me, and I’m sorry for most of them. But know, I love you, more than I ever thought I was capable of. And do me a favor, look after your mum. Make sure she’s happy.” _

John closes his eyes, surrendering himself to whatever he has coming to him. Suddenly, the First grabs him by the shirt, pulling him to his feet. John’s eyes snap open, but with his vision tunneling all he sees is a hazy image of his enemy’s face. 

“You win, Constantine,” the First snarls. “I will cure your cancer and let you live--”

“And leave my family alone,” John manages to croak. 

“Yes, yes,” the First says impatiently. “Whatever the others promised you, I will grant. But don’t think this means I won’t find a way around this. Don’t think I won’t exploit every loophole I can find.”

The First reaches into John’s chest and squeezes tightly, relishing the absolute pain he’s inflicting on his worst enemy. 

John has never felt anything like it; it’s almost as if his lungs are burning away and then  _ regrowing.  _ What little breath he has is stolen from him. He chokes and gasps, feebly reaching up to grab the First’s wrists. But the Fallen lets him go.

He drops to the floor with a thud and the pain continues to grow. It increases and spreads throughout his whole body until it feels like his skin is bubbling and every organ he has is turning to liquid. With a yell, John’s body reaches his pain threshold and he briefly loses consciousness. When he finally regains himself, he’s sweaty and shaking violently. He glances at his wrists to see not even a hint of a scar. From what he can feel, even his arms and back seem to be void of the carvings Lola had given him. It’s not just his lungs that are new, it’s everything. He feels better than he’s felt in years. The only scar that remains is the one on his palm. It glows with a strange yellow light, sizzling slightly before fading back to dark pink. 

An overwhelming feeling of surprise washes over him and he finds himself bathed in Lola’s presence as if she’s standing right in front of him. The smile on his face can’t be stopped. Asking for Lola’s connection to be restored had been risky. He was sure the Third would realize his true intentions, but it had been too consumed with its greed to consider his ulterior motive. John feels that familiar rush of energy and emotions. 

_ What did he do, that son of a bitch?! _

Chuckling to himself, John sends Lola the feeling of reassurance before closing off the connection and slowly getting to his feet. His muscles don’t scream in protest. In fact, he’s quite certain he could do a backflip if he wanted to. Bloody hell, he never felt this good before. Not even when he was a young lad. 

“Ta for that,” he says, scooping his bag off the floor. With his free hand, he draws a cigarette out of his pocket and pops the end into his mouth. “And here I thought you were going to give me to the angels.” 

“Your arrogance will be your undoing!” the First snaps. 

“You will never be free of us!” the Second adds. 

“Your soul will come to Hell, John Constantine,” the Third promises. “One way or another.”

“Doubt it,” John says nonchalantly. He lights the end of his cigarette and slips the lighter back into his pocket. After a deep drag, he motions to the First. “Can see it on his face. None of you will give into the other, and you won’t bring war to Hell just for my sorry soul. Which means, either you keep healing me for all eternity, or let the angels have me. But I’ll let you lot sort that out.”

His smugness cannot be contained as he strolls past them on his way to the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have important matters to attend to. The missus is furious with me and don’t quite fancy the thought of spending the evening on the couch.” The anger he’s leaving in his wake only makes him giddy. Once he reaches the door, he has a final thought. 

“Oh yeah, one more thing,” John says, voice muffled by his cigarette. He turns back to look at the First and with a large smirk, flips him off. 

\---

You were already on your way back to the Mill house when you feel something is wrong. You start to grow feverish and the scar on your hand starts to burn. You force Chas to pull over and it’s a good thing you do because your whole body is suddenly bathed in yellow light. It only lasts a second, and once it’s gone, you can sense John’s presence again. It’s not like the first time where it felt wrong and intrusive. This is the connection as it was when it was taken away from you. 

_ What did he do, that son of a bitch?! _

You know he’s not home when you get there, so you have no choice but to wait. Chas and Renee opt to stay in their room as you move about the living room, cleaning up the mess he left behind only so you don’t go making it bigger. It’s hours later when you finally feel John enter the house. 

You’re leaning against the bookcase when he walks in, having resigned yourself to that one spot to keep from accosting him at the door. He stops at the top of the stairs, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. Obviously he knew you’d be there. Probably why he took his sweet time getting home. 

His clothes are stained with blood, which provides a startling image. However, you can sense he's not injured. In fact, he looks better than you've ever seen him. There are no bags under his eyes and his face looks full and healthy.

“Hello there, love,” he says. He starts to descend the staircase, leather bag in one hand and plastic grocery bag in another. “Fancy seeing you here.”

His nonchalance is just the spark you need to unleash, and he knows it. 

“We got a few hours out when I remembered something,” you say, watching as he places his bags on one of the couches. 

“What’s that, pet?” John asks, extinguishing his cigarette in the ashtray on his table. 

You march over to him and he doesn’t even try to block the punch to his jaw. He takes the second one with the same resignation. “You’re a lying piece of shit, John Constantine!”

Your own jaw explodes with his pain, but you ignore it. John just laughs, wiping away the blood from the corner of his mouth.

“Out of all the selfish,” Punch. “Inconsiderate,” Punch. “Completely moronic, fucking idiotic things for you to do! Do you know what you put me through?! I have half a mind to beat you to death myself, you pathetic sack of horse shit!”

John is too busy laughing at your outburst to even notice his split lip. Grinning wildly, he grabs your hips and tugs you forward. “C’mere, you beautiful, daft woman.”

“No! Get off me!” you snap, shoving his hands off. You jab your finger into his face and he flinches. “Don’t you EVER do anything like that to me again! My heart literally cannot take anymore! I swear I would kick you in the balls if I didn’t think you’d get off on it in some way!”

He says your name a few times until you force yourself to stop berating him. “I had to know you were safe,” he explains. “It was the only way to make sure the First was dealt with and take care of my cancer.”

“So, you’re not dying anymore?” you ask, chest heaving as the adrenaline rushes through you. “Cancer is completely gone? Not just in remission.” 

John smiles and nods. 

“Good.”

You dive at him, arms flinging around his neck as you devour his mouth in a hungry kiss. His lip heals the second you make contact and you feel the soreness from childbirth disappear. He kisses you just as fiercely, one arm around your waist while his free hand cups your cheek. He steps backwards until he hits the table. You don’t let him stop there. He’s forced to sit on the edge as you crawl onto his lap, straddling him with your knees. You thought you would never get to kiss him again and you’re prepared to take full advantage. 

Mercury whines and forces you to finally break the kiss. “Seriously, kid,” you pant, looking over at her. “Father’s timing: poor and inconvenient.”

John chuckles and pats your thigh. “Step aside you.”

Sliding off the table, you let John cross to the bassinet. “Your mum and old man ignoring you?” he coos, lifting her up. He lays a loud, smacking kiss on her plump cheek.

“I take it with the connection restored you won’t be keeping your distance,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Well that depends,” John says, tucking Merc into the crook of his arm. 

“On?”

“You.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

Grinning, John comes to stand next to you. “Come, let’s go for a drive. We should talk.”

“John, it’s early. The sun isn’t even out yet,” you tell him. 

“Humor me,” he says. He holds Merc up so her face is next to his while he pouts. “Please?”

“Ugh, fine. Just, don't hold the baby when you're covered in blood.”

John chuckles and hands Merc to you. “I'll go change then.”

After John cleans up, the three of you pile into your car with him in the driver seat. During the trip, you listen intently as he tells you everything that happened since Mercury was born. What Zed told him about her gift, what he saw during his drug trip, the way he tricked the First, Second and Third. 

“What I don’t understand is, why didn’t you let Zed heal you?” you ask. 

“Because, even if she could heal me,” John says. “The First would have kept sending someone. I needed to take out the source. Worse case scenario, I died and went to Hell for all eternity.”

“Wait…” you say, realizing something. “Did you inadvertently con your way into Heaven then? Because if they won’t risk war, then when you die…”

“Angels will come for me?” John asks with a cheeky grin. “It’s quite possible.”

“I literally have no words.” 

John chuckles and the two of you fall silent for a moment. However, you’re worried about the other part of his realization. The part with your daughter being psychic. 

“She’ll be okay,” John assures you, when he reads your thoughts. You hate that it’s always come easy for him to do so. 

“I just, wouldn’t wish seeing the future on my worst enemy,” you say. “It’s a terrible burden, and I hate that she was brought into this world just to carry it. It’s not right.” 

John reaches over to place a comforting hand on your knee. “If she’s anything like her mum, she can handle it,” he says with a smile. You smile back and place your hand on top of his. 

The rest of the car ride is done in silence. You watch dawn approach, wondering where it is John is taking you. He clearly has a destination in mind as he gets off the highway and starts to take a few back roads. Some time later, when he pulls up to the old farmhouse, you frown. 

“What are we doing here?”

John doesn’t answer as he puts the car in park and turns it off. He gets out, grabbing the plastic bag he brought with him. You follow his lead. While he walks towards the house, you take the time to strap a baby carrier to your chest so you can get Mercury out of her car seat. She’s fast asleep and you’re able to secure her without waking her. Once that’s taken care of, you follow John to the house. He’s already on the steps, staring at the structure. 

“We lived here,” John says. “In the Jinn’s vision.”

“Did we now?” you ask.

“It was much nicer,” John tells you. “We restored the whole thing ourselves. It's sturdy, a little rugged but solid. There are a few weak points and rough patches. It took a lot of time and effort. But we made it better than it ever was.” 

“We still talking about the house?” you ask. 

John chuckles and turns to you. “It’s yours,” he says, drawing the key out of his pocket. 

“Wait, seriously?”

John nods. “Bought it after Merc was born,” he says, handing you the key. “It was for the best case scenario.” 

“You got us a house?” 

John shrugs. “It’s already warded and I know you love places with big windows. Thought if you were too stubborn to leave you would need a brighter safe house.” 

You walk around the space, taking the time to admire it. “How did you afford this?” you have to ask. 

John chuckles. “Ritchie worked some magic, for lack of a better word.” 

“And it’s not too far from the Mill house,” you point out. “You can actually visit us instead of exiling yourself.” 

“About that…” 

“What?” you ask with exasperation. 

John hesitates. “Was just thinking,” he says. “With the connection restored and all, maybe I should stay here with the two of you.”

You pause to give him a surprised look. “Is that what you want?” you ask tentatively . 

John studies you and Merc before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking closer. “I’ve always been good at wanting what I can’t have,” he says. “When I do manage to get what I want, I like to live in the moment. To take full advantage.” He’s standing in front of you now. “I’m not going to pretend that I know what I’m doing. I’m rubbish when it comes to children. Lola, I’m a mess. If I list all my character flaws we’ll be here all day.”

“All week.”

John gives you a look. “Regardless,” he says. “You still love me. So, what do  _ you _ want?” 

“To keep fighting,” you say instantly. “To face this stupid world with my best friend at my side. John, I raised Mercury by myself once already. This time I want to do it with you. Not just because you can help her with her visions or you’re magically tethered to me. But because I love you. I can do this alone if I have to, but I don’t want to.” 

John studies you for a moment before running both hands through his hair. He takes a deep breath, a slow smile spreading across his face as he exhales. “We can do this, yeah?” 

“I need for you to say the words,” you tell him. “Because once you say them, they’re real.” 

“They’re real whether I say them or not,” John smirks. 

You smirk back and raise your eyebrow expectedly. 

“I want to stay,” John finally says. “I want to stay with you and Merc.” 

“One condition.”

John’s face lights up and he places his hands on your waist. “Anything.”

“Just you, me and Mercury,” you tell him. “Because if you think we’re going to have five kids, I’m punching you in the dick.”

John laughs. “It would take care of things, because I would definitely lose the ability if you did.”

You laugh too and let him kiss you. When he draws back, you say, “So, let’s keep doing this. Let’s keep fighting together.”

John takes your hand. “Aye,” he says. “I can do that. I also have a condition.” 

“John, seriously, butt stuff is just not gonna happen.” 

“No! Not that,” John says. “Though, let’s table that discussion for another time.” You shove him playfully. “My condition is, for the love of all that is holy, stop punching me in the face!” 

You can’t help but laugh. “No promises,” you say.

“Think of the terrible example you’ll be setting for our daughter,” John says with mock hurt. 

“Already using her against me,” you tease. “Real nice, John.” Heart thumping wildly and happiness overwhelming you, you take a second to collect yourself. “What’s in the bag?”

John remembers it and leads you to the front steps to sit. He pulls out a plastic food container. “Pancakes?” he asks, offering you the food. 

You smile. “Pancakes sound perfect.”

He opens the container and hands you a fork. You fall into comfortable silence as the two of you share the blueberry pancakes. You’re both starving considering the last twenty-four hours you had, so it doesn’t take long before the food is gone. Once it is, John throws the trash into the bag and slides his hand into yours. 

“You know we’re nowhere near done, right?” you ask. “Sooner or later hunting is going to drag us back in.” 

“Don’t I know it,” John sighs. “Until then, let’s just enjoy this, shall we?”

You shift closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder. In the baby carrier, Mercury wiggles around, gurgling and cooing as she dreams. You and John smile down at her before turning your attention to the sunrise. A feeling of hope washes over you. At first you don’t think anything of it, until you realize it’s coming from John. 

John has hope, something you don’t think you’ve ever really felt from him. It makes you warm inside. You look up at him, just in time for him to swoop in for a kiss. When he pulls away, his smile is soft and his eyes are sparkling. 

“Why don’t we go home and give Merc to Uncle Chas for a bit?” he asks. “I think I’ll take that pity handy now.” 

Your laugh can’t be contained and makes John grin like an idiot. “You’re such a giant pain in my ass, John Constantine,” you say. 

“But you still love me.” 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Ta for that,” John responds. He hugs you tight and you bask in each other’s presence. After some time passes, John pulls away to look at you. “So, is that a yes?”

You sigh heavily and roll your eyes. “Let’s go home then,” you say. “This is the man I chose to spend my life with.” 

“A terrible decision that will likely get you killed,” John teases. 

“Been there, done that,” you say with a wave of your hand. “Didn’t really stick.” 

Giggling like children, you walk away from the house, hand-in-hand. Once you secure Merc in her car seat, you climb into the passenger’s seat. John’s slipping on his sunglasses when you do. He grabs the back of your head, yanking you towards him so he can kiss you a little rougher now that there isn’t a baby strapped to your chest. 

You kiss him back, grabbing his collar. 

When he finally pulls away the two of you share matching grins. John puts the car in drive and reaches out to take your hand. 

You don’t know what the future holds for yourself or for John. His trick with the First will inevitably bite him in the ass, like it always does. However, you’re more than happy to forget about that for awhile and just revel in the fact that you’re both alive and your child is healthy. 

Everything else can just fuck off. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sad to see this series go. Lola is such a pivotal character for me and was created during one of my darkest times. I love these assholes so much. This may not have been my most "successful" series in terms of hits and kudos, but god damn it if it wasn't my favorite and the best thing I've ever written. Thank you guys so much for sticking with me this whole time!
> 
> Of course, most of this series was inspired by music, so the last song I leave you with is Lola's theme song, and the series's namesake, Angel with a Shotgun by The Cab: https://play.spotify.com/track/49rpdsNYJirTTf6p6mMvag
> 
> I also started a Lola RP Blog! http://lolawithashotgun.tumblr.com/


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